Ripped

  It took Lindsay a couple of hours yesterday to get over the fact that I missed the appointment with the electrician. She’s almost always in the mood for sex when she’s pregnant, so having Mila in our bed for the past few days since we got back from Tahiti has been frustrating for her. For both of us, actually. But we can’t let Mila sleep in her bedroom until the knob and tube wiring is changed.

  The previous owners of this house ran out of money halfway through the renovation, so they upgraded all the electrical work except for the wiring in Mila’s room, which we suspect they may have been using as an office. When we closed escrow on the house in July, there was no sink in the master bath and the kitchen cabinets were still in boxes in the garage. Luckily, my dad let me borrow a few of the carpenters who work for his company, Parker Construction, and we were able to get everything move-in ready in five days.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Jason’s number, but it’s his bodyguard Joe who answers with a gruff Hey. “Are you guys around?” I reply. “I’m just outside the hotel room.”

  “Nah, man. Jason got into some trouble last night. His parents asked me to fly him home.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  Joe is silent for a few seconds before he answers. “He got cited for underage drinking, then he insulted the Latino policeman who gave him the ticket. The hashtags #gringogreene and #jerkyjason are trending worldwide right now. It’s not a good time to be Jason Greene.”

  I sigh as I head back toward the elevator. “Thanks for being honest with me. I guess I’ll have to figure something else out for the party. Later, man.”

  The seven-minute drive back to our house is filled with Disney channel music and panicked thoughts. I didn’t make a Plan B in the event that Jason didn’t follow through. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.

  I think back to the man I was ten years ago, when I had just finished my court-ordered anger management course after beating Kaia’s biological father to a pulp. I was no better than Jason Greene at twenty-two years old than he is at seventeen. I can’t pass judgment on him, but that doesn’t stop the hopeless feeling from settling in. I was not prepared for this scenario. I really don’t want to let Kaia down today.

  I guess I can stop at a toy store and get my birthday girl a bunch of extravagant toys she’s been wanting, but Lindsay and I have been very adamant about not teaching the girls to covet material things. We want them to know it’s the human connections and experiences that are the most treasured gifts, not fancy toys and electronics.

  If there’s anything I hope to teach my children before they die, it’s how to fail gracefully, then get up and try again.

  I shake my head as I turn the SUV into the driveway. I’m going to have to get Lindsay to play the part of Grayson in today’s skit.

  I enter the house and set Mila down on the wood floor. She immediately sets off toward the backyard, as if she didn’t just yawn twenty times in her car seat on the ride over here. I find Lindsay in the kitchen with her mom and stepdad, discussing what Lillian got Kaia for her birthday: an electric scooter.

  “Baby, we need to talk,” I say, placing the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter as I interrupt their jubilant conversation.

  Lindsay’s face falls at the mention of these words. “What happened? They didn’t have the chips?”

  I shake my head and let out a heavy sigh. “It’s much worse. Come with me.”

  Lindsay excuses herself before she follows me upstairs to our bedroom. “What happened? You look like someone died.”

  When I finish explaining my plan for Jason Greene to surprise Kaia, and how it all went to shit, I’m surprised to see her smiling. “Why do you look so pleased? I fucked up. I don’t have a big surprise for Kaia anymore.”

  She steps forward and lays her hand on my cheek. “Oh, Adam, she doesn’t care about those big gestures. You know that. All she’s been talking about all morning is getting her dad to go in the bouncy castle. She doesn’t care if you get her Jason Greene or nothing at all. She just wants you there by her side.” Her hand slides down my face and neck, coming to rest on my chest. “You’re Adam Parker, the best pro surfer and father in the world. You have nothing to worry about.”

  I gaze into her eyes, trying to ignore the yearning inside me, but the fiery look in her eyes is making it impossible. “Close the door.”

  She smiles as she closes and locks the bedroom door. When she turns around, she gasps when she finds me standing right behind her. I reach for the button on her skinny jeans as I lean down to kiss her neck.

  “I fucking love you so much,” I murmur in her ear as I push down her jeans and panties. “I swear to fucking God I’m going to finish the wiring in Mila’s room myself if I have to.”

  She chuckles as I kneel down before her and yank her pants and underwear all the way down, helping her out of them before I toss them behind me. “You don’t have to do that. I know it will get done eventually.”

  “I’m not doing it for you,” I reply, then I plant a soft kiss on her swollen abdomen before I look up into her eyes. “I’m doing it because I can’t fucking stand not being able to have you anytime I want. Just look at you.” My gaze falls down to her feet, slowly skimming my way up to her pregnant belly and up to her lacy pink bra as she peels off her tank top. “You’re gorgeous and you’re all mine. I should be cherishing that, not squandering it.”

  I grab both sides of her waist and pull her toward me so I can lay a soft trail of kisses down her belly to her navel. My hands slide down to cup her ass as my lips travel down to the soft patch of hair over her mound.

  She sucks in a sharp breath as my tongue darts out and slides between her swollen lips. “Oh, Adam,” she murmurs as her skin prickles with anticipation.

  My right hand slides down her ass, all the way down her thigh, until I reach the back of her knee. Lifting her leg up, I drape it over my shoulder, exposing her smooth center to me. I slide my finger inside her wet pussy and she moans as she grabs the door handle behind her and leans her head back. I feel around a bit, crooking my finger as I massage the smooth inner folds until I find the textured spot that elicits a high-pitched whimper.

  I move my finger over it lightly at first, waiting until I can feel the full weight of her body relaxing into me, then I increase the pressure on her G-spot as my thumb lightly caresses her clit. She bears down on me, greedily grinding her pussy into my hand. Keeping my left hand on her ass and my right middle finger inside her, I lean forward and part her luscious lips with my tongue to unearth her slick pearl.

  “Oh, God,” she whines, her torso curling over my head, her inner walls clenching around my finger. “My parents are gonna hear me. Oh, my fucking God!”

  I lean my head back a little so I can look up and into her eyes as my tongue draws a long, slow line from her entrance to her clit. “This is my house,” I say, then I plant a soft kiss on her swollen lips. “This is my pussy.” I curl my finger inside her and she gasps as I press down on her G-spot. “I will do whatever the fuck I want.”

  I close my lips over her clit and suck gently, watching her as she pants heavily, unable to control the volume of her pleasure.

  I ease off just as her hips begin to tremble in my firm grasp. “I want the whole world to hear you scream,” I continue, drawing a slow circle around her pleasure spot with the tip of my tongue.

  She clutches my hair, holding on for dear life as her thighs quake uncontrollably. “I’m coming. I’m coming. Oh, my fucking God. I’m coming.”

  I continue licking her until she begs me to stop, then I lick her trembling, needy pussy clean because I can’t get enough of her sweet taste, her heady smell. Wrapping my arms tightly around her thighs to keep her from collapsing, I kiss my way up to her belly, then I look up at her and smile.

  “Bend over the bed. I’m going to fuck the shit out of you right now.”

  She laughs as she runs her fingers through my hair, sending a shiver over my skin. “You’re dripping
,” she whispers, brushing the pad of her thumb over my chin.

  I lick her clit again and she gasps. “What if we just jump out the bedroom window, bounce off the top of the bouncy castle, and plop down into my convertible? Then I’ll take you for a ride on my surfboard.”

  She smiles as she nods toward the bed. “I can take a ride on your board right there.”

  I smile as I stand up and she yelps as I scoop her up in my arms. “Surf’s up, baby.”

  Twenty minutes later, we emerge from the bedroom, bright-eyed and cheeks flushed pink with the glow of hot sex. If Lillian and Michael don’t know what we were doing upstairs, if they can’t smell it on us, then they’re sorely out of touch with reality. Thankfully, if they do suspect anything, they keep their suspicions to themselves. And we find that one of Kaia’s friends and Yuri and Lena have arrived early.

  Yuri raises an eyebrow when he sees me dipping a potato chip in the onion dip. “You look awfully chipper. Any particular reason?”

  I try not to look at Lena as my mouth curves into a smile. “Nope, just feeling on top of the world right now.”

  Lillian pats my back on the way to the fridge. “You should be, Mr. Number One Surfer in the World.”

  Lindsay and I look at each other and I try not to laugh as I imagine her riding my “board” just a few minutes ago.

  “Lil, you already know this, but Lindsay’s a great surfer, too,” I remark, dumping the rest of the bag of chips into a serving bowl.

  Lindsay narrows her eyes at me and Yuri nods as he catches our exchange.

  He turns to Lena. “I highly doubt Lindsay’s as good a surfer as Lena. Right, babycakes?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

  She rolls her eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that. It’s creepy.”

  “Whatever you say, snookums.”

  Once all the guests have arrived, and all the food and cake has been eaten, and all the children have bounced away their excess energy, it’s time for Lindsay and me to perform an episode of Charmed Life. I pull her into the downstairs bathroom to go over the lines we rehearsed while she was “waxing my board” earlier.

  I’m dressed in a pair of Lindsay’s leggings, which are so tight around my junk that they’re cutting a major wedgie through my asscrack. And just like Grayson’s love interest, Annie, I’m wearing a ginger wig and Pokémon T-shirt, tied at the side of my waist, which I found online last week. I don’t know why kids these days think it’s ironic to wear ’90s fashion when they weren’t even alive back then.

  Meanwhile, Lindsay has pulled her hair back into a bun at the base of her neck and she’s wearing one of my gray Gucci blazers, with the sleeves rolled up because they’re way too long on her. She even packed a couple of backpacks with school supplies for us to carry, just like Grayson and Annie. And she went to the trouble of painting a mustache on herself even though Grayson’s baby-soft face shows not a single sign of puberty.

  “I find you oddly sexy right now,” I say, wiping a smudge of brown eyeliner off her upper lip.

  She grabs her crotch and casts a sexy glare in my direction. “Want to bend over so Grayson can put his super-small pencil in your super-big pencil box?”

  I cringe at her offer. “Yeah, I think I’ll wait until you’ve washed the Grayson off your face.”

  She grabs my hand as I reach for the bathroom door handle. “Wait.” She looks up at me with a worried expression. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, look at what happened to Grayson—I mean, Jason. You know someone out there is going to get this on video and upload it to Facebook as soon as they leave the party.”

  I cock an eyebrow. “Are you seriously asking me if I’m sure about this? You do remember who you’re married to, don’t you? Do you think I give a flying fuck if people see me dressed like a girl for the sake of my daughter’s birthday party?” I shake my head and hand her my backpack. “You know me better than that, Grayson. Now carry my books.”

  Except for a couple of moments where Grayson forgets his lines, the skit goes off without a hitch. And the party ends with Mila falling asleep in her aunt Lena’s lap while most of Kaia’s friends congratulate her for having such cool parents. As Lindsay carries Mila upstairs to our bed, and I look around the living room at all the smiling faces as they gather their things, it’s hard not to notice the glum look on Lena’s face as she and Yuri head to the coat closet to grab her purse.

  I plant a loud kiss on Kaia’s forehead. “Take all your new toys upstairs and start getting ready for bed. I’ll be up in a little while to say good night.”

  She throws her arms around my waist and hugs me tightly. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “For what, baby?”

  “For being the best daddy.”

  I smile as my heart clenches. “It’s easy when I’ve got the best daughter.” I squeeze her tightly and kiss the top of her head. “I love you, birthday girl. Now go upstairs. I’ll be up soon.”

  She grins as she gathers up a few of her toys and races up the wooden stairs.

  I bid the last couple of stragglers good night as Lena and Yuri stand on the porch waiting for me. I sense the tension before anyone even says a word, but I’m too afraid to acknowledge it, so I opt for a safer topic instead.

  “See you tomorrow morning?” I ask Lena. “Gotta get out there early. Can’t let Carlos shake up the seeds.”

  “I’ll be there,” she replies, looking me straight in the eye. “And Yuri and I will both be there in Trestles.”

  I nod. “Good. You have your room and everything worked out?”

  She shoots Yuri a glance, but he’s too busy staring at something on his phone to notice. “The room is booked,” she says, finally looking up at me. “We’ll be there all twelve days.”

  I turn to Yuri. “What are you doing, man? Playing Candy Crush?”

  “Dude, are you for real?” Yuri replies. “Candy Crush is so over. It’s all about Doodle Bugs now. You have to draw something by smashing bugs and using their blood as paint. The person you’re playing against has to guess what you’re drawing.”

  “That’s fucking disgusting,” I reply. “Can I play?”

  Lena shakes her head as she sets off down the steps toward their jeep. “Come on, Yuri. It’s past your bedtime.”

  Yuri shrugs. “Another time,” he says, descending the porch steps to follow Lena. “Sweet T-shirt, bro. It goes with your silky mane. That’s a good look for you.”

  “This is me starting a trend. You saw it here first,” I reply, blowing him a kiss. “Good night, Doodle Bug.”

  Yuri jumps in the air so he can catch my kiss, which he pretends to tuck safely in his back pocket. “Saving that one for later tonight when I’m feeling extra horny. Good night, Boo Boo!”

  As Lena and Yuri drive off, I can’t shake the feeling that the reason Lena didn’t have a good time today was because she’s changed her mind about having kids and Yuri hasn’t. It happened once before. When Mila was born and Lena babysat her a few times when Lindsay had to take Kaia to appointments, Lena started getting baby fever. But Yuri and Lena had agreed early on in their relationship that they both didn’t want children, so eventually they were both in sync again. I wonder if Yuri’s recent shift in motivation has Lena rethinking her commitment to him.

  I shake my head as I head inside. I don’t know the answer to that question, and I hope I never have to find out. After losing the chance to compete in this year’s tour, I don’t want to know what would happen to Yuri if he also lost Lena.

  Six

  There’s no greater high for me than stepping onto the winner’s stage. But a close second would be putting on that yellow champion’s jersey before heading out onto the water. The jersey is worn by the surfer who won the previous event. There’s no doubt that surfing is at least fifty percent mental. I only won one event last year at Trestles, but I’ve worn it four times this year. Pulling that yellow jersey over my head before heading onto the water today instantly gave me a boost in confidence. Once I had t
he mental part down, I was halfway there.

  When I step off the stage in Trestles, I do the standard champion interview with the WSL commissioner and fend off invitations for a billion different after-parties. I don’t want to celebrate with anyone but Yuri and Lena tonight. They won’t spend the whole night further inflating my ego or asking me for tips on how to land a backside air reverse. After this narrow victory, I need to keep myself grounded.

  Yuri and I throw my boards into the back of the rental SUV, then I hop in the back so I can lie down across the seat while Lena drives us back to the hotel in San Clemente. Yuri turns the radio on and starts bobbing his head and singing aloud when he finds a station playing “Gin and Juice” by Snoop Dogg.

  “Yuri, you’re the worst Asian rapper ever,” I call out to him from the backseat.

  The briny smell of the ocean is saturated in my skin. The scent fills the SUV, and combined with the soothing scent of Lena’s coconut sunscreen, the music, and the way the car bumps along down the street, I begin to feel very relaxed.

  “That’s not what your mom said last night,” Yuri replies.

  I lick my salty lips and close my eyes. “You’re right. My mom loves your rhymes. She told me it’s the only reason she tolerates your micro-dick.”

  Lena laughs and in my mind I can imagine Yuri shooting her a look.

  “What are you laughing at?” Yuri says. “You love my little Asian dick. Don’t you, baby?”

  “Only you would call that thing little,” she replies.

  I open my eyes just in time to see Yuri and Lena high-fiving each other.

  “That’s right, baby,” Yuri says, leaning over to kiss her cheek as she turns into the hotel driveway.

  Yuri and I each take two of my boards, then we valet the car and head up to the suite. Once we’ve all showered away the sticky layers of sun-cured salt on our skin, we order some room service. I have to stick to a strict training diet, so I order the grilled fish and vegetables, but I allow myself to indulge in a couple of beers.

  Yuri takes out a baggie of some sticky-looking weed and a Power Pen vaporizer. “Nothing in your training diet says you can’t partake of some fine recreational cannabis. I’ve got some God’s Pussy here, son. Maybe if you smoke some of this, you’ll come to your senses and realize you need to give me Ripped.”